Birds With Broken Wings
by Snowlia
Summary: Castiel's wings are injured, and there's not a thing Dean can do about it. Destiel.


**A/N: This story is a gift to my dear friend Danica, aka as theshantm on tumblr. She asked me for a Destiel involving someone being tortured MONTHS ago and I am almost done with it so I decided to post chapter one of two. This story was betaed by my friend Jasmine, but as always, if you see any mistakes please let me know. This is my first attempt at Supernatural fanfiction, so I would love to hear your thoughts. Hope you enjoy this Danica!**

**"Without love, we are birds with broken wings." - Morrie Schwartz**

Dean wasn't really sure how it had happened. One moment he had been stalking through the abandoned warehouse with Castiel, flashlight in one hand and gun in the other and now he was chained to an upsettingly disgusting poll with a throbbing headache.

"Damn it," he hissed, trying to shift to a slightly more comfortable position out of habit, but knowing that was the least of his problems right now. He blinked around the blood sticking to his lashes, trying to assess his situation.

He could feel the sharp pain of metal biting into his wrists, holding them tight above his head. The dampness of the poll and grimy floor seeped through his shirt and pants, nipping irritatingly at his skin. The room he was being held captive in was dark, lit just barley by a few far off and high up windows streaked with dust.

"Dean."

Dean's head jerked to the right, letting his eyes adjust until he saw him.

"Cas?"

The angel looked slightly worse for wear, forcibly kneeling on the cold floor, his arms spread out to either side, held taught with chains. His trench coat and blazer were cast aside. A few cuts marred his usually angelically clean skin and blood was soaking through the cuffs of his shirt.

"What the hell happened?" Dean demanded, trying to move again, looking for any way out of this.

"I did!"

Dean most certainly _did not_ jump as a head of wavy brown hair suddenly appeared to his left. Composing himself quickly, things began to fall into place.

"_Meg,"_ he snarled, trying to put as much of a threat as he could into his voice, seeing as how his arms were out of commission for the moment.

A manic grin spread across her face in delight. "Oh you remembered!" She extended a hand to run her finger along his jaw. "You look so cute all tied up Dean."

He tried to jerk his face away, managing only to move about an inch more before the chains restricted him. _'Where's Sam and Bobby?' _He thought desperately, eyes darting around the room, but he knew better than to voice it out loud. They had taken a different hall, headed to the other side of the building. Maybe they were still out there, and right now they seemed to be his and Cas's only hope.

"Oh, but then there is you," Meg purred, eyes locked on the currently bound Cas, her eyes flashing dangerously. She stalked forward, seemingly forgetting Dean as she made her way to Cas, lowering herself with each step until she was perched on the balls of her feet, looking him in the eye.

Dean felt every muscle in his body tense at how close the two suddenly were. It was just _wrong._ Wrong, wrong, wrong, on so many levels. Cas was a Goddamn _angel of the Lord, _a fucking divine creature from heaven. And Meg was a demon; a filthy piece of Hell vermin that had slithered up and just happened to be in a gorgeous body. She didn't deserve to be in the same room as him, let alone as close as she was, her breath on his mouth.

Cas was as unreadable as always though, the slightest furrow of his brow to show what may have been mild annoyance or may have been heavenly rage, it was hard to tell Cas's level of discomfort. He met her eye steadily though, hardly blinking.

"You are positively, fucking, delicious," and with that Meg covered Cas's mouth with her own, viciously using tongue, lips and teeth like she was trying to devour him.

It began in Dean's stomach, a sick, twisting feeling overtook his abdomen and constricted his chest until he knew his heart was having trouble beating against the enclosed space. He couldn't help the snarl the erupted unwarranted from his mouth.

Meg turned quickly to look at him, tongue between her teeth, lips swollen and quirked up at the sides. With a mischievous sort of smirk she turned back to the still stoic Cas, her fingers laced through his hair and her lips against his jaw line. "What's the matter Dean," she asked, hands moving through Cas's hair to caress his neck instead. "Are you jealous?"

Cas met Dean's eyes over the top of Meg's head, still looking more annoyed than anything at this point.

Meg bit down suddenly on Cas's throat and his face twitched quickly before settling back into his stony disposition. She looked back at Dean as she stood up. "Though I wonder which one of us exactly it is that you are jealous of," she teased with a laugh running the tips of her fingers along one of Cas's restricted arms.

Dean ignored the heat that rose to his face at her thinly veiled commentary and instead focused on Cas. "You gonna do something here, Cas, or are you just gonna hang there like a useless noodle?"

"I can't," Cas almost whined, tugging at the bond on his left wrist.

"You're a fucking angel, do something!"

"I can't!" Cas yelled back, his look of annoyance blending into something slightly more hostile.

"Of course not!" Meg quipped happily, now positioned behind Castiel. "We've got this place on lockdown." She continued her finger's trail along Castiel's shoulder. "It took more blood than you can imagine, and a hell of a lot of interrogating, but we got a few spells." She leaned down, her lips against he shell of Cas's ear. "You're not going anywhere angel cake."

"What the hell do you want?" Dean demanded trying to inconspicuously scan the room and all possible entrances, looking for any sign that Bobby and Sam were anywhere near by.

Meg grinned at him again and her peppy attitude was making Dean even more nervous than usual. His stomach rolled again as she leaned down to Cas's ear again and this time bite down on the lobe and tugging. It still elicited no reaction from the unresponsive angel.

"Do you like that?" She cooed in his ear, blowing against her own bite mark. Unsurprisingly Cas decided not to respond, once more making eye contact with Dean, staring him down with an expression the hunter couldn't read.

"Do you like it rough Castiel?" She hummed, moving away him and over to a nearby table. With her back to them both she began rummaging around, the sound of metal on metal echoing off of the dirty walls. "Because I can play rough." With a flourish she turned, brandishing a knife in one hand and clutching a folded piece of paper in the other.

"You're going to torture an angel?" Dean scoffed, playing up his bravado as much for Meg's benefit as his own. There was no way to harm an angel except with an angel's blade, which Meg didn't appear to have. Logic was telling him that there was no immediate threat to his friend, but something about Meg's demeanor, an I-know-something-you-don't-know glint in her eye and her smirk that said she knew his thought process was making him steadily more nervous.

With a flick of the knife she tore through the thin fabric of Cas's sleeve, drawing a line of blood to his elbow.

He didn't flinch.

"You like that honey?" She grinned, undaunted by Cas's lack of reaction. Another flick and his neck was bleeding, heavily for a human, but still not an issue for an angel of the Lord.

Slash. Slash. Slash.

His cheek. His shoulder. His back; all bleeding, soaking through the white material and dripping down to the floor. Castiel still didn't move.

"Hmmm," Meg cupped her chin with her fingers in mock thought. "Not doing it for you?" She asked, concerned. With three fingers she lifted Cas's chin, planting a kiss on his cheekbone. "No? Well then guess we will have to try something else, won't we?"

Her smirk was deadly and Dean found himself looking around wildly, begging Bobby and Sam to show up soon. Dean had hunted long enough to recognize the calm before the storm, and one hell of a storm was coming.

She rose to her full height, unfolding the paper casually, as if she were in no real hurry.

"Why are you doing this?" Dean demanded, trying to distract her for a moment. He didn't know what was coming, but he knew Meg well enough to know it was something bad.

Meg smirked without looking up from sheet. "This actually has nothing to do with you, Princess." She knelt down behind Cas, raising the knife. "This is personal."

With a yell she drove the knife into Cas's back, and then drug it down, tearing him open while chanting in a language Dean had never heard. Cas let out a short grunt, face twitching again and rolling his shoulders against the pain. Dean pulled uselessly against his own bonds.

_Where the hell were Bobby and Sam?_

Meg withdrew the knife and stopped her chanting, looking victoriously at the gaping wound on Cas's back. For a moment all was quiet, and Dean knew damn well that was when things were most dangerous.

"There." She smiled brightly. And before Dean could say anything Cas suddenly tensed and fell forward against his bonds, his teeth grinding uncharacteristically. And then there was a whoosh of air and the sound of ruffling feathers, but Castiel didn't go anywhere. He sat back up, the pained expression gone, but in its place was one of pure panic.

"What did you do to him?" Dean demanded, his own panic reaching a crescendo. He turned his attention to Cas. "What did she do to you?"

Cas's eyes darted left and right, staring up at something Dean couldn't see, and then he understood. It was so dark that there were no shadows, but Dean knew.

Cas's wings were out.

Meg snapped her fingers and light flared on, illuminating the room, casting too many shadows across the room, and silhouetting two enormous wings against the wall behind Cas. Both were easily twice as big as Dean, and he had always found them so intimidating, so frightening and powerful, but now something seemed to have changed. They seemed so…fragile. The feathers were twitching in what almost seemed a nervous fashion, and Dean could hear his heartbeat in his ears.

"Beautiful," whispered Meg, her tone dripping with venom.

Before Dean could even comprehend what was happening Meg was lunging forward, a cat with claws extended, driving her knife straight into the air with all of her weight.

The sound that tore itself from Cas's throat wasn't human.

Her knife met nothing, but its shadow collided with the shadow of Cas's left wing, driving down into the bone. The wing tensed and stretched, the feathers parting and quivering as if in shock, while its counterpart flapped desperately in panic, stirring the air and blowing dust everywhere. Meg withdrew the knife and struck again, and again, and again, in the same area, the shadows of drops of some sort of liquid flying in all directions.

A window exploded, sending glass shards flying as Cas's scream rose to a deathly level. It was all Dean could hear, and he was almost thankful so he couldn't hear the sound of the knife meeting bone.

"CAS." He couldn't even hear his own voice over the sound coming from the angel, but he couldn't help himself from calling out.

Meg wasn't stopping. She slashed, dragging the knife along his wing the same way she had his arm. Her eyes were gone, an abyss of black as her mouth curled into a predatory snarl, it was a look Dean remembered, the look of a demon with a soul on the rack.

Dean struggled desperately against his bonds, not even feeling the pain of the metal digging under his skin. He couldn't feel anything; all he could do was stare, helpless as Meg grabbed Cas's wing with one hand, holding it still as she began carving.

The sound, the scream of an angel in pain, of _Cas, _in pain, would haunt Dean for the rest of his life. It would have been bad enough if all he had to do was listen to it, or even just watch the shadow being ripped to pieces, but Cas's face was what was tearing Dean's heart out.

Cas, whose biggest expression was a furrow of his brow, a tilt of the head or a twitch of his lips, who was always so composed and stoic. Cas was falling to pieces. He wasn't even tugging at his bonds, barely even struggling beyond the useless flapping of his undamaged wing's shadow. His face was twisted in pain, eyes shut in agony and his teeth ground together in what may have been a futile attempt to hold in his scream.

Dean was screaming too, not even sure if he was saying actual words or just heedlessly yelling, blood flying as he practically sawed at his bonds. It was an emergency situation, he needed to be alert again, looking for a way out, but he couldn't look away from Cas.

The demon stopped suddenly, letting the knife fall to the floor with a clatter, echoing in the room as Cas quieted down, falling forward under his own weight, held up only by the chains. Dean was still yelling though, throwing out threats and insults, hissing at Meg and swearing with every breath he had to make her pay. Cas's left wing was slumped dejectedly to the floor, still trembling in pain, the other wing frozen in the air, unsure of what to do.

Meg ignored Dean, gazing down at Cas as her chest heaved with breath. "How about that?" She huffed triumphantly. "Did you like that, _honey?_"

Cas was panting at well, sweat dripping down his face and matting his hair to his head. He inhaled a few shuddering breath with his head hanging on his neck before he lifted it slowly, meeting Dean's eye.

The world slowed down for a moment, and all Dean could see was blue.

Dean was use to the angel staring at him, and was probably the only human who could begin to guess Cas's thought process. This time was different however, his gaze was even more intense than usual, and Dean didn't see anything he had expected.

Dean had expected to see a plea in those eyes, a cry that he help him, that he do something, but there was no demand or accusation in Cas's eyes. In its place was an apology, and what Dean couldn't deny was absolute shame.

Meg moved between them but neither man wavered in their connection. "Don't be sorry, you dumbass! She's the one who's going to be sorry!" Dean's voice was too loud in the quiet aftermath of Meg's desecration of Cas's wing, his pitch wavering with his own pain.

Meg laughed and then reached up into the air, her arm's shadow burying itself in Cas's right wing. He shuddered violently at the touch, his wing stretching, trying to dislodge her, but she held tight. She raised her other hand to join it, stroking her hands roughly through the feathers and across the bone.

Cas made no noise but his whole body was trembling, muscles twitching under his shirt as sweat, tears and blood dripped down from his face, staining his collar. Something about this felt even worse than her attack of the other wing. It was _wrong_, it was _violating. _She leaned forward, nuzzling her face into thin air before pressing a kiss, her shadow lost in Cas's wing's.

"STOP IT!" Dean roared, still fighting though his muscles were burning from the useless effort.

Meg giggled again, continuing her ministrations on Cas's wing. "Ooh, someone's got a jealous boyfriend," she stage whispered to Cas. She looked at Dean with a Cheshire grin. "What's the matter Dean? Don't like to share? Don't like anyone else touching _your_ angel, hmm? Are you the only one allowed to do that?"

"Go to hell," he bit out.

"Already been," she said and then suddenly made fists of both of her hands and pulled. Cas cried out as pieces of his shadow came away in her hands. Meg examined her hands, clutched around the invisible feathers. Her laugh was low and cruel as she ran them along her cheek, sighing contently.

"So soft," she purred appreciatively to a whimpering Cas. She looked to Dean, smiling softly. "Do you want to feel, Dean?"

Meg was in front of him in a second, kneeling down on his thighs and holding his legs still, though pride wouldn't have let him shy away regardless. She pinched her forefinger and thumb together around nothing and then moved close to his leg, hovering above his jeans. He couldn't see anything, but he felt the light pressure against his calf, drawing up as she moved her hand along, moving to his knee and then up his thigh. Her grin widened as she slowed her progress, making a show of tickling the feather between his legs and over the bulge in his jeans.

He growled in a hollow threat. Meg trilled, and then moved up, under his shirt, replacing the feather on his groin with her knee. Dean's breath caught in his throat as the feathers drug across the bare skin of his stomach. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the feeling, trying to get away from it as Meg moved up, covering his chest in goose bumps from the feather's touch. There wasn't another feeling like it in the world, angel feathers on his bare skin. It was wrong, blasphemous even.

Not to mention Cas was currently _bleeding in the corner. _

Meg kept her hand on his chest and moved the other to his face, pressing the feathers against his cheek and neck. Dean shuddered, his breathing even heavier than before. His senses were flooded with the feathers. It was hot and cold at the same time, electricity racing under his skin.

Feathers. Feathers. Feathers. It's all he could think, all he could feel, and all he could smell. Every breath he took was an overload of the scent. Of something otherworldly and radical, something that only Cas could smell like. Meg's mouth was against his before he could stop it, her tongue in his mouth before he could fight back, struggling against her. She bit down on his lip, pressing fiercely against him with the feathers, digging her nails into his flesh.

"I'm gonna be honest here Dean, I'm a little turned on," she hissed, digging her knee into his groin hard.

He held in a groan. "You kinky bitch."

She barked a laugh in his face. "I'm not the one getting hard from my friend's pain."

And Dean really had nothing to say to that, so he didn't.

Meg removed her hand from his shirt, but left the feathers tucked in his collar. With her other hand the pulled at the waistband of his jeans, sliding the other feathers past his belt. "Hold those for me, will you?"

Dean closed eyes tight as Meg moved, opening up his line of sight to Cas once more. He took a few steadying breaths before opening them once more to meet his friend's eye.

Cas was unreadable once more, though pain was still etched on his face. It was now Dean trying to silently convey his apology.

"Alright Meg," Dean growled after a moment has passed. "You've had your fun, now get the fuck out of here before I tare you in two."

"And how do you plan on doing that Dean?" She asked as if he was a small child and she was asking how he planned on running away.

He snarled in response and she smiled. "Don't worry, I'm almost done with your boyfriend." She moved back to Cas's right wing, it's shadow missing a few chunks, but otherwise more intact than the left. With the same reverence she had earlier she reached up with both hands, placing one palm down near the base and another palm up about three feet apart.

She paused for a moment, smiling first at Cas and then sending a glance Dean's way before leaning down, her face's shadow meeting the wing in another kiss.

Then she jerked her hands in opposite directions and Dean didn't hear his own cry or Cas's over the sound of the crack of bone. Glass rained from the ceiling as the remaining windows exploded. The shadow broke, feathers splayed at the horror that has just become them, frozen in air for a second in disbelief before the broken wing collapsed to the floor.


End file.
